


Pressure

by roanniom



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roanniom/pseuds/roanniom
Summary: After a long hard day you know just how to take care of Charlie.
Relationships: Charlie Barber x Reader, Charlie Barber x You, Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Kudos: 12





	Pressure

Charlie’s had a long day. It’s the price of being a leader, of always having to have the answers, no matter who is asking and no matter the question. As far as his company is concerned, the buck stops with him, and lately it seems things have been going wrong almost as often as they’ve been going right. You know it’s just the ebb and flow of the business. Charlie knows that, too. But it doesn’t stop him from returning to your apartment weary and worn, weighed down by choices he still has to make and problems he still has to solve.

When you hear the front door open and close, you walk cautiously into the living room, wondering what mood Charlie will be in today. Sometime it’s a maelstrom – a flurry of curses and listing of concerns and retelling of grievances. On those days Charlie needs someone who can keep up. Who can challenge his irrational assumptions and provide alternative solutions.

Today, however, Charlie is quiet. He is sitting on the couch, not even having bothered to remove his coat. This Charlie is more defeated than frustrated. He’s slumped forward, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. You know this Charlie.

And you know what he needs.

Without a word you make your way over to him and kneel before his open knees. When he doesn’t look up, you grasp his forearms to pull his face from his hands. Bleary eyes look back at you from underneath a mop of tousled hair. Running his hands through it is one of his nervous habits, and one look at the state of his waves tells you all you need to know about this particular day.

“Hi,” he says quietly. You don’t respond. Instead, you let go of his arms to grasp his knees, dragging your hands up and down over the muscles of his meaty thighs. He reaches a hand to touch your hair but you swat him away.

You sit up taller and press a kiss to his willing mouth. One of your hands continues to knead his right thigh while the other slides up his chest to work nimbly at the buttons of his rumpled dress shirt. He groans when one hand makes contact with the expanse of skin beneath his collar bone just as the other slides over the space where his leg meets his pelvis. The latter hand follows the curve of his leg inward, to high on his inner thigh and the place where his pants are tenting quite proudly.

Your left hand rubs his right nipple while your right traces the rigid outline of his cock through the fabric. His massive hand closes over your smaller one, adding pressure on his lap that you had previously not afforded him. You withdraw your left hand from his open shirt and grab his wrist. Wordlessly you move it, placing his open palm firmly down on the couch beside him. Charlie pouts from above you.

“But - ” His words die on his lips when you give him a stern look. His chin trembles but he behaves, gripping the couch tightly on both sides of his spread legs now.

You lightly press against his abdomen so that he leans his weary body against the back of the couch instead of slouching over. He complies, head lolling against the cushion as he releases a long, shaking breath.

You stroke his now-throbbing length more firmly through his pants and lean in. Your open mouth hovers over his lap, getting as close as you can without touching. Your hot breath dampens the fabric just a bit and he tenses all over in anticipation. Slowly, oh so slowly, your hot open mouth descends onto his clothed cock, wetting the fabric and making Charlie buck up into your face and grab the back of your neck with one of the hands previously relegated to gripping the couch.

You lean back immediately and Charlie looks sheepish behind black-blown pupils.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“Sit on your hands,” you say simply. Charlie shakes his head.

“But I…I want to touch you.”

“You don’t get to touch me,” you say, cupping your own breast as you say it, as though providing a visual aid for exactly what it is he cannot have. Charlie swallows audibly.

“Please.” He’s breathing harder. You’ve barely touched him, but his tension needs an outlet like the steam in a pressure cooker. And you’re teasingly fingering his release valve.

His face crumples when you shake your head and you’re quick to soothe him.

“You don’t get to touch me because I want you to just lie back and feel me touching you.” Your words are quiet, and not even particularly lewd, but Charlie’s eyes flutter closed and he melts back into the couch, shifting obediently so his hands are beneath him.

“That’s a good Charlie,” you coo. You unbutton and unzip his pants to finally release his aching cock. It’s practically swollen with need, shining at the tip with precum that looks just too tantalizing not to taste. So you do taste it, licking a fat stripe from the underside of his cock, over the head, and across the top of his shaft. Charlie shudders beneath your touch but doesn’t break the rules, hands still firmly beneath him.

You tease his tip for a while, swirling your tongue around it as your hand grips him, stroking slowly up from the root. Charlie’s feet shuffle slightly against the floor on either side of you. He’s clearly working very hard to stop himself from thrusting up into you again. He hisses when you dig the nails of both of your hands into his thighs and drag up till you reach his abdomen, where you splay your hands over his lower belly. Feeling it rise and fall with each shallow breath.

You look up at him from between his legs until he opens his eyes and looks back down at you when he realizes you’ve stopped moving. He swallows his groan at the sight of you. On your knees between his, big eyes staring up at him as his cock bobs not even a centimeter from your wet, plump lips. When you speak, your lips ghost his tip, hot breath washing over his cock, making it twitch.

“Let me take care of you, Charlie.”

He nods and you lower your mouth slowly onto him, never breaking eye contact. The feeling of your hot, wet mouth brings him immediate relief from the agony of waiting for more contact, but it only amps up his desire to be fucking in and out of you. In any way that you will allow him. 

He whimpers as you begin to move, taking him in and out, your tongue cushioning the underside of his cock as your jaw widens to take him ever deeper.

“Oh fuck,” he lets out, gasping when he realizes he’s spoken out loud. He watches you warily, not sure if that, too, is against the rules. You nod around his cock in response and he understands. Touching is off limits. But noise? Noise is on the table.

With your permission squared away, Charlie becomes more vocal in tiny increments. His whimpers turn into whines, pulled from his throat in a strangled way that runs straight to your clit. You swallow him down, taking him more fully into your throat with each movement, and Charlie lets out a quiet yelp. You’re letting him make sounds, but he is still keeping it down, afraid to shatter the intimacy of the moment.

“Oh my god. Oh god oh yes.” His words are tense and whispered through gritted teeth. Your grip moves back to his thighs for leverage as you begin moving up and down over his cock more frantically. One hand moves to cup his balls, feeling them tense, knowing he’s close.

“Feel so good. So good to me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck…oh shit…fuck – fuck me!”

“God. Please. Oh god…”

He’s babbling almost incoherently now, squirming in his seat, hands still beneath him like you asked. His face is scrunched up, having lost the ability to maintain eye contact some time ago in the onslaught of all this pleasure.

You drop your head down abruptly, gagging yourself almost forcefully on his pulsing cock. The tip presses deeply against the back of your throat and you make choking and sputtering sounds, but succeed in holding it there. One hand wraps around the base of his cock and squeezes upward, milking the part of him that you can’t fit down your throat.

All of this drives him wild in a way he can’t possibly express. But what does it is the feeling of your other hand, creeping back up to splay on the soft lower belly again, pressing down against him. Your thumb brushes back and forth at the skin there and he cums. Violently down your throat, finally thrusting up into you involuntarily, beyond gone at this point. A guttural moan fills the room and you swallow what he gives you. All the while caressing him his skin softly.

When his hips stop bucking you pull off of him and wipe your mouth, gazing up to find him looking absolutely obliterated. His clothes are still mainly on, just open and askew, pushed haphazardly aside to expose glimpses of his naked skin below. A slight sheen of sweat coats his chest and his face is flushed, mouth open as he takes in deep breaths. He looks like he wants to cry, or like he’s been crying and this is the cathartic aftermath, shudders racking his body.

You climb up onto the couch beside him and tug at his arms to get him to release the hands he’s been sitting on. He pulls his hands out as you wish but places them on his lap, palms up. Still following your no-touching instructions. Your good Charlie, through and through.

You grasp his arms and drape them around you, assisting him in pulling you closer. You pull on the back of his neck encouraging his face to fall down to your chest, which it does. His cheek presses into the swell of your breasts and he presses his lips to the cleft of your cleavage in the softest of kisses.

You continue to hold him like that for a long while. Your thumb caressing a swath of exposed skin. He’ll still have choices to make and problems to solve later. But for now he feels empty of worry with his arms so full of you.

~*~


End file.
